Sam hadn't told anyone he was alive. Ok, that wasn't true. His not-dead-yet grandfather knew he was alive. So did some cousins that Sam was still deciding on if he wanted to trust. And yeah, Bobby knew, but he was under obligation not to tell.

Dean didn't know, and that was what mattered. Bobby kept him in the loop on how his brother was doing, but otherwise he didn't go near. He wasn't about to bring him back into the insanity that was surrounding him. At least not until he figured out what was going on himself.

( Which Led to this Job in Jersey... )

ooc: follows after this

He was still in the room. Every time he passed out, he woke up alone in the room. Somewhere along the way Dean or Cas had taken pity on him and untied him from the bed, changed the sheets and put new clothes for him to change into. New food and water in the fridge.

Motions to show Sam they cared, but no one answered when he screamed for them to talk to him.

No on that was real anyway.

Part of him knew they were hallucinations. A part of him. But he was alone and sometimes he felt he deserved the torture.

And that was why he knew she came.

When he was deep inside, it wasn't about lust. Feeling himself buried to the hilt, two legs wrapped around him as he tested to see how far he could go... how far she'd let him... it wasn't because he wanted her.

There was no power play here. His back, her back - didn't matter. The slap of skin; the sliding; caress; slick and heat; It had it's own power. Magic. It brought him into the moment and made him forget about the world.

Nothing existed but the tightness around him, urging him to take and give. There may have been love, but in the heat of the moment he didn't think of it. It was a means to an end. A sharing of pleasure and hinted with an edge of pain.

Only those who got this close knew there was a hell hound behind those puppy eyes. A beast who had been whipped so many times and needed to find some release. His heart was too pure to hurt others, but in this act, it was felt.

Thrusts that rocked more than just the body under him. Teeth. Bruises that appeared for days afterward that kept a soreness that reminded them for days of that night. Feeling his skin tighten until the darkness seeped out in gasps and growls as he took.

Sam...

Hearing his name from another's lips kept him grounded and getting lost in that dark side. Hazel eyes watching pleasure vibrate off his partner. Soft breaths in his ears, moans that vibrated his skin as he broke out in sweat. Fingernails gripping his skin as he gave.

This wasn't something he wanted. He needed this. A moment where he could balance the light and dark in him. A moment of focus and clarity.

A moment of love, hate, and everything in between that just grew until it exploded behind his eyes and he collapsed into waiting arms that slicked his hair back and whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

A moment where he could just be without judgment or punishment. The fate of the world didn't rest on his shoulders, just her hands squeezing out every ounce of him until there was nothing left to give.

A moment in which he was everything.

Nothing.

Sam.

He actually makes a cute little action figure.

Though when you realize he's holding a knife in the "kill" position, it becomes hard to believe that he's actually an angel...